Flatter Me
by Zuimi
Summary: Death City awaits Maka as she returns for the summer. It's been five years, but she never expected how much she'd miss or that she'd see - him - again. They were best friends when they were in elementary, played childish imaginary fighting games as heroes, but what about now?
1. Nostalgic

_**Flatter Me**_

_By Zuimi_

**Chapter One:  
>Nostalgic<strong>

_Note to Reader: This chapter and the following have been heavily rewritten from the original chapters that were uploaded in 2011._

The taxi casually sped down the grainy desert road. Maka had been fast asleep the several hours before the vehicle made its way onto the rocky path. The dry sand was being sprinkled onto the metal side of the car by the unprepared rubber tires, and the sound that those sprinkles made was obnoxiously noticeable to the blonde girl awoken from her nap. Her emerald green eyes blinked a few times as she reached her arms out, allowing her muscles to stretch comfortably, when she realized sleep was no longer possible. Her hair had slipped out of the tight bun she had pulled it into that morning, and it annoyed her by resting itself on her shoulder, tickling her neck. Maka remade her bun and ran her finger through her bangs to align them. She looked down at her outfit: a sky blue button up shirt, rolled up to her elbows, tucked into a plain black skater skirt topped with black leather boots. She was pleased to find them unwrinkled, even after an uncomfortable car drive and nap.

Though her eyes were still getting used to her surroundings, she saw perfectly well the black leather cushions of the taxi. In between the cushions, she would find opened, licked, but unfinished lollipops; chewing gum wrappers tightly pressed into a less-than-neat balls; cigarette butts, to her disgust; and old, sticky key chains, all of which she had found by accident, earlier during her drive. She didn't even want to imagine the other surprises that await her in the depths of the taxi's seats. Or even better: underneath the driver's and front-seat passenger's chairs. She gazed outside her window, clearly disgusted with the interior of the vehicle. As she may have suspected, the sun was out, boiling the rest of the desert under its incredible heat. Luckily, the taxi that she ordered had a powerful (if not too powerful) air conditioning system.

Outdoors, she saw heat waves on the horizon, which allowed her to visualize exactly how hot that sand would feel if she decided to walk on it barefoot. The few cactuses out there seemed to be enduring the burning sunlight just fine, but otherwise, the desert looked quite… well, deserted. Not that Maka had imagined, nor remembered, people just hanging about Death Valley this far into it, but it seemed like a totally different landscape to the Death Valley everyone visited – the one with the natural monuments (tall, red rocks). Just a bit further would be the place where the population count differed enormously compared to the population of the rest of the valley. Soon, the taxi would be arriving at Maka's hometown. The famous, but barely reachable, Death City had just been spotted on the horizon as the taxi driver said:

"Almost there!"

Maka sat up straighter. She was nervous. She was anxious. She was bursting with excitement at the mere _thought_ of setting foot in Death City. It was so close! She could actually _see_ it. It was approaching dreadfully slow, but she didn't care because at least it was _approaching_. She fixed her skirt. She fixed the way she was sitting down on it. She fixed the way her shirt was tucked into her skirt. She fixed the way her shirt bunched up under the skirt. She was fidgeting. But she refused to consider herself to be panicking. 'Almost there!' The words echoed in the back of her head. Maka was almost there. She could almost taste the coffee from her favorite coffee shop that she had missed out on for so long. And while similar thoughts continued to race in her mind, Death City had come nearer and nearer. The taxi drove up onto a cobblestone street, which Maka was more than happy to welcome considering the sprinkling grains of sand had gone on for too long.

Immediately, Maka was greeted by the odd but familiar style of architecture known only to Death City. The buildings lined the narrow streets, rising high. They seemed to be towering over the lane, with their pale multicolored siding(but barely considered colorful since the hues they held were sandy, grey, dusty blue/green, etc which just decorated the buildings' main general base: a neutral dust color). The lampposts stationed along the side of the road seemed like gothic, electrical lanterns, giving the town a hollow and eerie feel. But the shops had contradicted that aura with their clients' genuine content expressions. She quickly read the signs as she whizzed past the stores. There was 'Skull Ice Cream' (best ice cream in town, in Maka's opinion), 'Lord Death's General' (a store where one would find things for everyday life, or things that they wished they'd never seen), 'Donuts for Dead' (a great donut bakery but it held some questionable flavors), and Maka's favorite café – 'Death Café'. As the car past the café and left it far behind, Maka stopped practically pressing her face on the window, aware of the taxi driver's gaze. And then the taxi passed the small park that resided in the city. It had a small play set, an even smaller playing field, but a grand tree house located on the only tree in the park. It looked half dead (it's been looking half dead for years), but it never bent under the house's weight. The tree house was a rugged, wooden thing that was much smaller than how Maka remembered it from years ago. Had it always been so small? Did she only imagine it as vast as a majestic castle held up by crisp planks? But it still made her smile when her eyes caught it. It's been too many years, but she still remembered the amazing times she had playing in that dumb park:

_Her short blonde hair was trapped into neat pigtails that curled towards the end. Her green eyes dashed this way and that, searching eagerly. She looked about frantically, quite frustrated. Then she found what she was looking for: stark white hair stuck out from behind a bush. A wide smile was now plastered onto her round face. Her short little legs propelled her body to the bush, dashing behind it, and then pouncing on the little boy that had hid himself there. His scarlet eyes remained unalarmed, even though his plan was seemingly ruined. Instead, he pulled his face into a toothy grin, grabbing her little fists and nailing them to the ground with his._

"_I found you," The little girl said confidently, though she was very unsure of the situation at the moment, "That means I win."_

"_But __**I**__," the little boy said, not moving from his position, "really won since I got you!"_

_The little girl mustered up all her strength and pushed the boy off of her, "That's not what you said! That's not how you play the game! It's Hide-and-Seek not Hide-and-Ambush the Seeker!"_

_The boy had no idea what the word 'ambush' meant and now, he wasn't exactly sure what 'seek' meant, either. He picked himself off the ground, "Well, it doesn't matter, I won."_

"_Says who?" The girl got up, as well, and punched the boy lightly in the arm, "You can't just make up the rules!"_

"_Yeah, I can!" The boy held up six fingers, "I'm six."_

"_So am I!"_

"_Well, you're wearing a stupid dress so it would be hard for you to play games, so you can't make up the rules for them!"_

_The girl wasn't pleased to discover this new inferiority to this rude little boy she just met. She simply asked him if he wanted to play Hide-and-Seek. And he agreed. But here he goes, messing up the rules to the almost best game in the world. She ran up to stand in front of him, effectively blocking his way, saying, "__**I **__think that if someone has to mess up rules to win, then they're the real, __**real**__ losers!"_

_The boy pushed the girl out of the way, knocking her off her feet and onto her rear. She picked herself up just as he said, "Well, no girl will ever be able to play the __**best**__ game in the world!"_

"_**What's**__ the best game in the world?" The girl put her hands on her hips. She was honestly curious, but she had taken up a tone that sounded both bitter and snobby._

"_Why do you care?" the boy sneered at her. "It's not like you'll ever play it. Only me and my brother play it."_

_The girl stepped closer to the boy, hands remaining on her hips, "Well, I just want to know how to play."_

_The boy then crossed his arms, "Fine. I'll tell you. But don't tell anyone else, okay?"_

"_Okay, okay!"_

"_Imagine that there are these monster things everywhere. And they do really bad things. Like, they are cromon-nails!" the boy said dramatically._

"_You mean, criminals?"_

"_Yeah, shhh-!" the boy continued, "And they have bad souls. They're called kishins. But me and my brother, we can stop them. Because we're heros. And we eat the souls!"_

"_You __**eat**__ them?!" the girl looked disgusted._

"_Yeah, and we have these super cool hero names," the boy grinned again, "I'm called Soul Eater because my real name's Soul. And then in the game, I eat souls. So my name is Soul Eater."_

"_Your name is Soul?"_

"_Yeah," the boy nodded , "Soul Evans. My brother is Wes Evans. And his hero name is - !"_

_The girl interrupted, "So, how do you eat the souls? Because they're not __**real**__."_

_The boy rolled his eyes, "You pretend a cracker or a chip is the soul! Duh!"_

_The girl did not appreciate the attitude of the little boy. She then crossed her arms and said, "Sounds stupid. I would never play something so dumb."_

"_Hey!" the boy pointed a finger at the girl, "Don't call it dumb! You've never played it, so you wouldn't even know how cool it is!"_

"_I don't think it'd be cool ever," The girl was lying. It sounded like a marvelous game. But since the boy had banned her from playing it, the least she could do was ridicule it and make him feel bad about it. She started to walk away when the boy stopped her._

_He said, "Fine. Let's play it once. You'll see! You'll see that it's awesome!"_

_The little girl smiled brightly at his words, "Really? Okay… but we don't have any snacks to eat!"_

"_I do," The boy smiled, running to his small backpack that rested on the old park bench. He pulled out a bag of 'Doritos', smiling._

"_Why do you have that?"_

"_Because my brother's gonna pick me up from the park, and I thought maybe I would play with him. But now I'm gonna play with you."_

"_Okay, set it up."_

"_Whoa!" The boy grabbed the little girl's arm before she could run off anywhere to prepare for the game. "You need to pick a superhero name before we can play! It has to have something to do with eating…"_

"_Hmmm…" Both children walked over to the bench, thinking hard. Every now and then, one of them would blurt out an idea that they had come up with, but then the other would shoot it down with a few words of disapproval. The boy finally pulled out his notebook from his bag, as well as a pencil. They started to brainstorm on paper, but to no avail. Finally, after at least fifteen minutes had passed of pure hope to be inspired, the girl wrote down 'Tiny Bite' on the sheet of paper. She then said, "Because I'm short. I think it's cute."_

"_Tiny Bits?" the boy asked, raising a brow._

"_No! Tiny __**Bite**__!" the girl corrected._

"_No."_

"_No?"_

"_No," the boy replied, "I'm gonna call you Tiny Bits – 'cos you'll tear 'em to tiny bits!"_

"_But that doesn't have to do with eating!" the girl said in an exasperated tone._

"_Doesn't matter!" The boy skipped off to place 'Doritos' around the park, choosing the locations of the dreaded kishins, "I make up the rules!"_

"_Why?"_

"'_Cos you're still wearing the dress."_

"_What?!"_

_And as the girl chased after him to beat him up for undermining her once more, the boy turned around and asked, "What's your name?"_

"_Maka."  
>The boy looked like he was waiting for something more.<br>"Maka Albarn."_

_The boy smiled, revealing all his teeth, which, the girl just noticed, were sharp and pointy, "Tiny Bits, you'll be an awesome sidekick to the great Soul Eater!"_

_He raced towards the nearest chip with a battle cry. His hands tightly pulled into fists. He hit an invisible kishin in the jaw, shouting orders at his sidekick, who was handing a separate kishin a few feet away. Both children fiercely fought alongside each other playing the game the first out of many times together._

Maka smiled at the memory. 'Tiny Bits'. Her amazing alter ego who bravely fought kishin with the hero Soul Eater. It was truly a game better than Hide-and-Seek. Soul became her best friend after that day. They met a week later, by chance, at the park, when they decided to meet up every few days. They parents soon caught on to their friendship, and though her parents seemed to encourage it, Soul's parents seemed to limit it. After they turned eight, however, his parents seemed to go out of their way to restrain their son from playing with his best friend (and sidekick). They got to see each other at school and walked home together, but it seemed to be too much to play the game anymore. Sometimes they would, when they got the chance on a lucky afternoon, but by the time they were nine, they left the games behind them. In the meantime, they found themselves more friends. Tsubaki had befriended Maka when they were both seven, but they weren't necessarily close until they were nine. During the same year, Soul became good friends with a rambunctious boy by the name of Black Star, an heir to a respected fighting dojo. His family had been in the spotlight of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat for centuries. In the fifth grade, or when Maka was ten, she befriended two sisters by the names of Liz and Patty Thompson. They moved from Brooklyn, and mischievous and rude as they were when they first arrived, they developed a liking for Maka and Tsubaki and became their friends. A boy named Kid had also wormed their way into their friend group, though Maka, looking bad, was not entirely sure how. But she liked him no less. Though he was closer to the boys and the sisters than her, he seemed to be the only person who was as clever as her. He always dressed to impress, though, considering his father was the mayor of Death City. However, he seemed to lose respect when people found out about his strange OCD. He worshipped symmetry.

And thinking about her friends now made Maka grow more excited to see all of them. Well, almost all of them…

In sixth grade, at age eleven, Maka had received her acceptance letter to the prestigious boarding upper middle school and high school 'Gorgon Academy'. It was an all-girls school that offered incredible education with the best professors and services. Upon graduation, the graduates would almost always be leaving with full scholarships, large scholarships, incredible deals, immense financial support, and other things of the sort to the best universities around the world. It also had programs that would ensure a high-paying job in the employment path the student desires. In short, graduating from the school guaranteed success in the future.

She was thrilled when she had gotten the letter, but she was heartbroken to leave her friends. She looked out her window, watching as she passed the incredible sights that were Death City. She had just finished her junior year at Gorgon Academy. She had not left the school all these years. During the summers, Maka would occupy herself with the summer homework in her dorm. She didn't mind it, really, she didn't. But her roommate, Eruka, had finally gotten on her nerves. The girl wasn't incredibly mean, but she would just say unnecessary comments that had hurt Maka's feelings. A few days ago, while Maka was doing her bun, she had said, 'Maka, really, if you expect anyone to like you, you don't have to dress like a prude.' but it was her that told Maka during her first year at the academy to 'get rid of those stupid pigtails that made her look like everything was a joke.' She constantly joked about Maka with her friend Mizune teasing her about her clothes, her love for books, her care for her grades. Eruka did say she didn't mean for it to hurt her, but it didn't change the fact that it did.

In sixth grade, Soul had also decided to ditch town, but not because he was going to start attending a different school. His parents simply decided to move out. According to Soul, he was moving to a town in California, but Maka could neither recall the town's name nor recall if Soul ever said it. In short, she would not be meeting him today. Or ever, perhaps. She hoped that, at least, she could get some contact information to say 'hi'. 'Tiny Bits' was alone without her 'Soul Eater'.

She took her mind off of the topic. Besides, Maka finally decided to escape the Academy for a while. Just for the last summer before the end of high school forever.

"Yeh get off 'here," said the taxi driver, parking in front of a modest sand-colored apartment building that had one of its floors painted dusty green from the outside.

Maka looked at the apartment, and then the neighborhood, before she said, "Wait, but this isn't my house. My apartment building, that is."

The taxi driver then started to dig through her thing on the small furniture that was placed between the driver's seat and the front passenger's seat. Her incredibly curled hair was tied into a low ponytail that bobbed every time she moved. She finally found a folding sheet of paper and explained, "Can' believe I fergot this! From yer pa. Sorry."

She didn't sound sorry, but I took the paper politely from her grasp. Unfolding it, and was revealed to a letter written by my father:

_Dear my darling angel,_

_I'm so sorry we can't be there to welcome you to Death City!_

_You know how fast we'd do it if we could!_

_But, sweetheart, we went on a small trip for a few days._

_It may be a bit longer, but, sunshine, we talked it out with_

_Tsubaki's parents – they'll take you in for just a wee bit!_

_Your mama and I can't wait to see you again, honey!_

_Make sure to act amazing like you always do!_

_From, Mama and Papa_

Maka nearly gagged at her father's words. And she was furious that her own parents would not even be here to witness her return to Death City after five long years. I mean, they have visited countless of times and she kept in touch with Tsubaki, Liz, and Patty over the internet, but she was finally back home. Back where she couldn't hear Eruka and Mizune's revolting gossip! But she didn't have enough time to react appropriately to the letter. The taxi driver had already gotten out of the cab, and she started to take Maka's two suitcases out of the trunk. The minute, Maka got out of the car, the driver got in, and she sped out of sight. Maka assumed her father must've prepaid.

Then, she hurt a squeal behind her, and arms wrapped around Maka's torso. The girl who seized her had a long, _long_ black hair that fell all the way down her back. It was none other than Tsubaki. But when the two separated friends pulled away from their hug, they were astonished by how they had changed. Maka, for one, did not expect her shy friend to fill in so nicely (into her bra). The tall, asian girl that stood before her was much taller than the one she befriended in middle school. Instead of wearing corny, childish floral shirt, she was wearing an airy elbow-length-sleeved shirt colored blush with a pair of tight white shorts. Her feet wore modest white flip-flops, but it was probably only because she had just rushed out of her house. Maka was glad to see that she wasn't wearing only ponytails, and Tsubaki had finally become confident enough with her looks to let it down.

"You've changed so much!" Maka exclaimed, gesturing to her friend's figure, "I mean, I know we talked over video, but it's so much different in person, you know?"

Tsubaki chuckled, "You're telling me! I'm still not over you losing your pigtails!"

_**Author's Note:**_

_**PLEASE READ: URGENT**_

_**A few days ago, I read this fanfiction (I had discontinued it, not officially but inside, I had no motivation to do ever continued writing it). I completely hated how I wrote it and the way I chose to angle the story in general (and I completely forgot what I was going to do with the story in the first place), but I didn't want to delete it because it had reviews and I didn't hate its concept. So, I'm rewriting the chapters I've already written along the same lines that I had started with it, but much better (in my opinion). I apologize to those who read and liked the story when it first came out in 2011, but trust me, this is for the better.**_

_**For now, I hope that you review/favorite/follow this story (please do so) and wait for me to complete the following chapters. I plan for there to be nine chapters in total. It may change, but this is my prediction. I apologize to those who have been inconvenienced, but please, bear with me. I do not own Soul Eater, the characters. The store names used in this chapter are made up, though. I hope you liked this chapter and will continue!**_

_**-Zuimi**_


	2. Embarrassed

_**Flatter Me**_

_By Zuimi_

**Chapter Two:  
>Embarrassed<strong>

"Maka, I'm telling you," Tsubaki grabbed one of Maka's pale blue suitcases up over the curve. While the small wheels squeaked annoyingly with every rotation, Tsubaki continued to talk, "You look so amazing! I love the look! Did you grow tired of the sweater vests and the plaid mini-skirts?"

Maka blushed very lightly; she stepped down onto the cobblestone street and grasped the handle of the second suitcase. Then, she lifted it onto the sidewalk, relieved that at least this suitcase didn't squeak. She replied, "Well, I did grow tired, yeah. But what about you? I love your hair down, by the way."

"Oh, it hardly makes a difference," Tsubaki waved the complement away with her hand, but a small smile showed her true gratitude. The raven-haired girl lifted the suitcase up onto the single step into the apartment building. She pressed the 'up' button next to the elevator, patiently waiting for both her friend and the elevator to arrive. She then inquired, "So tell me your thoughts about Gorgon Academy. Was it worth it?"

Maka was so relieved to be out of that school and talking to her best friend in person again that steering the conversation towards that subject felt like a waste, but she didn't want to reject her friend's question. She pulled the suitcase behind her, and she stood beside Tsubaki, waiting for the elevator, "I learned so much. I really liked going to school there. I mean, from the moment I got the letter to go, it wasn't much of a choice, really. My mother went and excelled in the Academy, and I, of course, have to be just as great."

Tsubaki looked around uneasily. She turned to face Maka, and asked, "But did you really want to go? I mean, I don't want to sound selfish, but the lot of us… we really missed you. I'm so glad you're back, even if it's just for the summer."

Maka pat Tsubaki's shoulder, "I missed you guys so much, too. But it'd be a shame to be allowed such an opportunity and pass it up, you know what I mean?"

Before Tsubaki could respond, the elevator let out a small 'ding' sound. The metal doors slid open to allow entry to its interior. Maka followed her friend in, dragging the heavy suitcase behind her. She saw Tsubaki press the round button that had '4' written on it. Top floor, like it always was. She continued to follow her friend to her apartment. They turned right, went down three rooms, and on the left – there it was. Fumbling for the keys, Tsubaki slightly delayed the welcome of Maka to her home and Maka's home, as well, for the time being. The door finally opened, and Maka came in to see a modern house that still had Japanese qualities in the furniture, such as the low-legged table with pillows around it instead of chairs. The kitchen, however, was completely American-styled, for it came with the apartment.

After Maka had set her suitcases down inside a side guest room, she was greeted by Tsubaki's parents. She said, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Nakatsukasa." She bowed her head – her Japanese mother taught her how to at least respect her elders. They greeted her back, before Mr. Nakatsukasa hurried back to his study and Mrs. Nakatsukasa continued to prepare Maka's bedroom for her stay. Tsubaki started to prepare some tea for the two of them.

Then she said, "Did you make friends there?"

"Huh?" Maka had not been paying attention.

"At Gorgon Academy?" Tsubaki clarified.

"Oh… uh…" Maka scratched the back of her neck, unsure whether to tell the truth or not. She decided to just be honest, "I didn't really. I mean, I talk to my roommate Eruka, but she's not very considerate of other people's feelings."  
>"So you lied when you told us the opposite over text, did you?" Tsubaki didn't turn away from the pouring water into the kettle, but that only made Maka feel more intimidated.<p>

"Might've, yeah," she avoided Tsubaki's gaze. Well, it could be classified more as a glare, perhaps.

Tsubaki finished pouring the water into the kettle and placed it on the stove, saying, "We're just worried about you. And it turns out we were right worrying. You shouldn't force yourself to do things just because people expect you to-!"

"Tsubaki," Maka said her name to silence her, "Listen, I understand that but I really did want to go there. I'm just glad I'm back to spend summer here."

Tsubaki said no more, but her face looked like she really wanted to. Maka, in all honestly, wasn't exactly one hundred percent sure if Gorgon Academy was satisfying her. Of course, its education was top-notch and its courses intriguing, but it had created a lonely Maka.

She took a deep breath, "You know what? I think we should skip the tea and go for ice cream."

"Oh!" Tsubaki turned the gas down on the stove. "Okay! Should I invite everyone else?"

"Yeah, sure," Maka nodded enthusiastically, "At Skull Ice Cream."

While Tsubaki fumbled through her phone, excitedly texting each of their friends, Maka thought about how much she missed out on everything. But she shook her head, slapping her face lightly, and stood straight. Nothing was going to get her down today. This was going to be the best day in five years. She waited patiently for Tsubaki and after around ten minutes the raven-haired girl said, "Only Black Star and Soul can come right now, but that's okay, right?"

Maka blinked a few times before reacting to Tsubaki's news, "Wait…. _What?!_"

"Wha-?" Tsubaki looked puzzled at her friend's reaction.

Maka quickly stood up, "He's _back_? He's _not_ in California? Did he ever move?"

Tsubaki's face soon flooded with realization, "Oh! He did move. For two years. But he came back for high school. I'm not sure if he begged his parents to come back or if they decided on their own. You know how his parents are…"

"Yeah, yeah, but-!"

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you through our conversations," Tsubaki apologized, "but we talked so scarcely and it completely slipped my mind."

"No, it's okay," Maka said, shaking her head. She was disappointed that she wasn't told of this, but Tsubaki spoke the truth when she said they spoke scarcely. They were both busy people, and it wasn't very often they both found themselves online with a desire to set aside their work and chat. But it still made her upset that they had failed to notify her of her close friend's return. She then said, "But he's coming so this should be interesting."

Tsubaki and Maka strolled over a few blocks back to 'Skull Ice Cream'. It wasn't the shortest of walks, but Maka was glad to be able to see Death City up close and at a comfortable speed, which gave the ability to closely see how things have changed. They passed a store front that was closed down and bolted over where Maka remembered a store named 'Death's Dresses' resided. When she asked Tsubaki what happened (Maka particularly enjoying seeing their dresses on display), Tsubaki quickly ended the conversation on the subject with 'It shut down'. 'Guillotine Grand', a cute pub, was replaced by a sophisticated antique store. A few blocks down, she realized her favorite book store ('Bloody Books') had been replaced by a corny-looking dollar store. Maka remembered how she would be most excited to head down to either Bloody Books or the library to read; she'd always been a bit of a bookworm. It angered her that one of her favorite places in Death City had been brought down, but when she expressed these feelings to Tsubaki, her friend said, 'Oh, no, it was _moved_. It's a couple blocks down the other direction.' Maka was relieved before realizing that though Death City was still her home, it was very different. It was a busy city that was roaring with life, so of course, it was constantly changing.

They could already see Skull Ice Cream, but they were both more interested in what was on the other side of the street. A blue-haired boy in a tee shirt, basketball shorts, and sneakers was walking with a white-haired boy wearing a raglan shirt, jeans, and converse. Maka's eyes softened at the familiar and long-awaited sight of her first friend. But she was more aware of how well he grew up. Sure, she hadn't expected him to be the same stupid, prepubescent boy she once knew, but… well, _damn_. He used to have a slightly hunched back, but he seemed to have grown out of it. His shoulders broadened, he had gotten taller, and his face became just… _nice_. Yeah, it was really nice.

But when he caught sight of her, the series of events that happened next hinted that he might not have known that he was meeting up with her. His eyes widened, and he couldn't stop looking. But he kept walking. So, of course, the second his face starts turning back to look in front of him, the idiot walks straight into a lamppost. And the collision was a violent bump; Soul had rammed his face (mostly his nose) into a large metal pole forcefully. He immediately stumbled, clutching his nose. Even from across the street, Maka could make out drops of red falling into his palms. And she could not stop laughing. Tsubaki, as well. The things that idiot would get himself into. Black Star, of course, also began to laugh, patting his friend's back to give at least some comfort and support. After they both had a few seconds to take in the situation fully, Black Star dragged Soul across the street with his bleeding nose to greet the two girls. All three of them were still laughing as Soul pinched his nose and tilted his head back.

Once she started to calm down, Maka said, "Hey."

"Yo," He replied, and his low voice hit her like a speeding train. Only then did she realize that guy's voices change significantly. She fidgeted awkwardly, wanting to break the silence that had started to build up over the past few seconds where she failed to respond with ease. It was getting pretty awkward. Someone needed to say something.

So then, Maka burst out, "Well, _someone_ went through puberty!" Ruining awkward moments was a hobby of hers. Or more of a necessity in some situations.

As Tsubaki and Black Star laughed some more, Soul replied, "You know, you shouldn't be talking. Now, I can't call you 'Tiny Tits' anymore."

Maka pinked a little, slamming the side of my extended hand onto his head, "I hate that name." When the stupid children they were started to go through puberty, her lack of boob had earned her heroic 'Tiny Bits' title be turned into a clever, but idiotic name: 'Tiny Tits'. She hated it, and Soul and Black Star would get their share of punches and karate chops to the head each time they used it. But, Maka was proud of her body to be able to outgrow such nicknames. She was simply a late bloomer.

"So you're back, then, huh?" Soul commented on the obvious.

"Yeah," Maka said, "and so are you."

Soul raised his eyebrow, "Are you back for real? Or is it for the summer?"

"Just for the summer," She responded. "What? Gonna miss me?"

"The day I miss you," Soul joked, "is the day Black Star pulls his head out of his ass."

"Oi!" Black Star looked threateningly at Soul.

Tsubaki chuckled lightly. Maka realized Black Star's voice also changed, but because Black Star already started to lower it before sixth grade, it wasn't as much of a surprise as Soul's.

"Alright, let's start walking," Tsubaki urged everyone to continue to the ice cream parlor only a few stores away, but Maka completely lost all trail of thought the minute Black Star's lips brushed against Tsubaki's as to greet her. Her mind blanked out.

Maka quickly rushed in front of the… couple… and held out her hands to stop them from walking further. Tsubaki, seeing Maka's actions, realized what made her do so, and she blushed immensely, turning her face a deep scarlet. Black Star only smirked. Maka shouted, "Who? What? When? Where? Why? And How? Why didn't you tell me? What is this? Tsubaki? And _Black Star_? What? _What_?"

The two teen boys chuckled at Maka's possible overreaction. Her eyes were darting from Tsubaki to Black Star rapidly. Finally, the black-haired girl explained, "It's pretty recent actually, that's why I didn't tell you."

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."  
>"But we talked a week ago."<p>

"Uh… sorry?"

"Where?"

"Where? What do you mean where?"

Black Star replied nonchalantly, "Her place."

Maka nodded her head, "How?"

Tsubaki, opened her mouth to speak, but her blush simply deepened. Black Star replied for her, "I told her."

Maka nodded her head, "Okay, last question… _Why_?"

"Oi!" Black Star pointed his finger at her. But Maka waved him away.

She said, "Alright, stuff around here changed _a lot_."

Soul stifled a laugh, "As if you haven't changed. What happened to the hairstyle, pigtails?"

'Pigtails' was another triggering nickname that earned Soul a good whack in the head. Maka turned around, and the four of them all continued their trip to Skull Ice Cream while chatting away. They entered the parlor, and Maka was relieved that the décor in the shop barely changed over the years she was gone. They ordered their ice cream and sat at a table towards the back of the shop.

Maka licked her desert while looking out the window. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in what her friends were saying; it was just that the entire ordeal was a lot to take in. Not only had she been surprised by her friends' relationship, but their appearance, their clothes, their smiles, the shops, the streets, the aura of the city, and the city itself seemed to have changed dramatically. It gave her the feeling that, though Death City and its inhabitants were where her heart truly lied, it had moved on without her. She was unable to synchronize with it again, though she wanted to so much. She didn't like the way her parents had failed to welcome her back to her home or the way that she felt her friends didn't miss her as much as she missed them. Maka, all in all, felt like she had missed out on everything.

She was back where she longed to be, but she felt like bursting into tears – which she wouldn't do, now, but maybe when she got back into her borrowed room. How could she have left all of this for Gorgon Academy? But, at the same time, how could she have stayed with such an amazing opportunity in front of her? How could her mother forgive her – no, how could she forgive herself if she refused to go? She was torn between two thoughts, licking the ice cream off of her spoon slowly. But then again, she was so focused on making her mother proud of her, but where was she? Her mother, that is. She didn't even have so much as a key to visit her own apartment, which was located closer to the center of town. Maka realized that she hadn't visited her room in five years. Also, she hadn't seen her living room, kitchen, and bathroom for just as long. What if they had been remodeled or refurnished? It shocked her that she barely remembered how her own apartment looked like. The feeling of being left behind by Death City hit her again.

Maka wasn't angered by Tsubaki, but she could admit to being annoyed by the fact that the girl hadn't kept her as updated as Maka would have liked. It didn't help that she was completely unaware of what were some major topics in her friends' lives. As far as she knew, Soul and Patty might be engaged. She pushed the thought away, telling herself to stop overreacting. Maybe it wasn't so much of her business to go on being nosy. She continued to stare out the window, watching the sun continue to boil the earth beneath it. Death City was her _home_. Or was she wrong?

"Hey," Maka backed away from the hand waving in front of her face, "Hey! Maka! Hey, stop spacing out!" This Black Star said.

Maka blinked a couple times before saying, "I'm not spacing out… What were you guys just saying?"

"Nothing important," Tsubaki answered, "Can I try your ice cream?"

Maka nodded, "Yeah, yeah, sure."

"So tell us how life was without the presence of me," Black Star commented, putting a whopping amount of ice cream on his spoon and eating it all in one bite. Maka noticed his wince, as did everyone else, when the temperature of the ice cream must've frozen his teeth.

She sighed, "Great. Yeah, um, Gorgon Academy really goes into depth with every subject. Really kept me busy these past years, you know?" Though she tried to sound cheerfully optimistic, Maka couldn't shake off the feeling that everyone was seeing right through her. Luckily, they nodded appreciatively and respectively, diving back into their desert, without questions.

"Pretty boring since you left," Soul commented, leaning back in his seat, "No one to tease. No fun at all."

"Sorry that I've disappointed," Maka joked.

"Wish you could've seen Black Star break his arm in front of the entire school sophomore year. Man, that was hilarious," Soul reminisced. He chuckled lightly, "Yeah, the idiot fell off the fucking stage during an assembly. And this time he wasn't even up to something – he was coming back from the bathroom." Tsubaki and Soul laughed harder at this. Black Star tried to look annoyed at the retelling of the tale, but started chuckling soon after. Maka joined in as well, but Soul pointing out that she'd missed out on great experiences in no way bettered her mood.

"Man, but you and Maka are way funnier to make fun of," Black Star began. Maka wondered whether he caught on to her distress or was trying to take the topic of idiocy off of him. Him being a dense idiot, it must be the latter. He continued, "I remember, in second grade, you'd start playing this weird game. Like you'd be the superheroes fighting these 'quiche-ons'. Soul accidentally tripped over himself and landed face first on a stone stair. Still have the scar?" This story got even more laughs, especially from Maka, who was glad that she was there to witness the event and of Black Star's mispronunciation of 'kishins'.

Soul scoffed, "No way, that was a decade ago, man."

"Maybe _that_ scar faded," Maka snorted, trying to eat her ice cream while talking and giggling, "but there's no way that the scar from when I punched you in the face by accident, and knocked you over, and your elbow got screwed up by that rock on the ground did. And we were fighting imaginary monsters." Even Tsubaki was breathless after that one.

"Man," Soul shook his head as if the fact was unbelievable, "I had to go to the hospital for that one. Imagine how angry my mom got when I told her why a rock had been stabbed into my arm."

"So do you have the scar?" Maka asked.

"Yeah, actually," He lifted his arm up, moving the fabric of his elbow-length raglan shirt a smidge to uncover a white line on his olive skin, "See it? Got stitches and everything."

"How many?" Tsubaki perked up.

"Don't remember," Soul shook his head. He lowered his arm now.

"We were idiots," Maka laughed, throwing her head back a little.

"To be fair, you had a wicked punch," Soul started, "If it was anybody else but me, they'd be in the hospital because their face would be paralyzed."

"I was seven."

"I stand by my statement."

A few moments of silent was much appreciated, as we all got back to eating our ice cream. Maka had taken chocolate chip cookie dough. And though she had it loads of times during her time at Gorgon, it tasted so much better here.

Tsubaki spoke up, "Been busy at my parents' recently. Business going up by a lot."

"That's great!" Black Star enthused, and Maka was surprised the amount of care the look he had given her with that statement bore. At first, she was surprised that the cutest, kindest girl was going for that moron, but she was even more baffled by the fact that they were both so into it. They seemed to just be in sync.

I chipped in, "You parents still own the restaurant?" Tsubaki nodded. The Nakatsukasa's ran a sophisticated restaurant in Death City titled 'Uncanny Sword'. They knew that in order to get more business here, they would have to make it more European-cuisine-oriented, but it didn't stop them from adding a few classic Japanese dishes onto the menu as specials. She remembered that even in elementary school, Tsubaki and her brother would act as busboys or even waiters after school. Tsubaki's brother left for college, but Maka knew Tsubaki wasn't relieved of her duties just yet.

"Best food in town, no wonder there's customers!" Black Star said.

Tsubaki nodded again but then looked down, "Thanks, but this only means more work for me."

"Huh," Soul said, thinking, "What if you gave me a job there?"

"Huh?" Tsubaki looked up.

"Like, a job," Soul clarified, "at the restaurant."

Black Star asked, "Ya savin' up?"

"Yeah, actually," Soul took a bite out of his ice cream. "I'm trying to buy myself a motorcycle."

Maka clapped her hands, "You always wanted one! I remember! You used to draw it all over your notebooks… and mine, too. You wanted an orange one, right?"

"Wow, yeah," Soul smirked, "Can't believe you remember that. But then again, I remember that you would die to get a pair of high-top converse. But you wanted the customizable ones you order online. Said you wanted to have it all black with gray laces and thread."

"Yeah!" Maka realized. "I did! Never got those. Kinda think I might get 'em, now that you mention it. Need some new clothes, too…" Maka turned to Tsubaki, "You don't think I can get a job at the Sword, too right?" (Sword being an abbreviation for Uncanny Sword).

"Whoa, whoa!" Tsubaki held up her hands, "I'm going to have to talk to my parents first, guys. It's their restaurant, their decision. Though it would awesome to have some company while working."

"Yo, but if only one of us gets it," Soul said, "Remember that I asked first."

After about ten minutes of bickering and excited chatting, the gang parted. Black Star and Soul walked off in one direction, towards Black Star's place, and Tsubaki and Maka in the other. The walk seemed shorter going back, and Maka said, "Tsubaki, if only one of us gets it, remember that I'm your best friend." At that, Tsubaki giggled and winked, admitting to her bias.

They entered the Nakatsukasa household quietly, and both of the girls headed for the guest room – or Maka's room. Maka unzipped her suitcase to take out her phone charger and other necessities. She plugged the charger into the nearest electrical socket, connected it to her phone, and said to Tsubaki, "It feels weird to be back, honestly."

"Give it some time," Tsubaki unzipped Maka's other suitcase, uncovering neatly stacked and folded shirts, "You're here for the entire summer. You'll catch up."

Maka sighed, unloading the suitcase of her entertainment – books, DVDs, a pair of skull headphones, and some more books – onto her bed, "I mean, but five years is a really long time. A lot's happened."

Tsubaki, handling the folded shirts with great care, picked them up and placed them into the empty drawer of the room's dresser. She spoke, "We didn't forget about you, even if it seems that we must've. We kept in touch – we've been video chatting! There's no need to worry."  
>"That was once every three weeks – sometimes even once a month," Maka sighed, "And many times, it only lasted ten minutes or something. I got a little lonely." She removed a stack of notebooks and textbooks from her suitcase – summer homework – and placed them on the bed next to her leisure books.<p>

"Okay, let's be real," Tsubaki stopped occupying herself with Maka's shirts, and turned to face her blonde friend, "Do you like it there? Because from what I'm hearing, it sounds like torture."

"No, I do like it there," Maka said, maybe trying to convince herself more than Tsubaki, "I like the teachers. And the classes. I feel like I'm finally being challenged. But, I just haven't been able to make friends. Usually, I'm good at that, but everyone's either uptight or rude."

Tsubaki nodded, analyzing Maka's situation, but she didn't say any more. She unpacked the rest of Maka's luggage with some small talk about Maka's clothing, complementing the style Maka had taken up.

However, all Maka could think about was about how Death City wasn't what it used to be.

_**Author's Note:**_

_**If you read my first chapter note, then you should already know this, but I had two chapters out before (written in 2011) and I'm rewriting them. I'm trying to stay true to the original content, but my writing style has changed immensely, so it's not that easy. I'm sorry if anyone was inconvenienced by this change. On a different note, thank you for anyone who has or will review/favorite/follow this story. I advise you do so (lol… pls). Now that I've rewritten both chapters that were out, and released them, I will write the rest of the chapters and once they are all completed, then I will upload them. It makes it easier for me to write without a deadline for every chapter. Thank you for understanding and reading!**_

_**-Zu**_


	3. Trapped

_**Flatter Me**_

_By Zuimi_

**Chapter Three:**

**Trapped**

Soul dragged his feet on the sidewalk as he slouched. He could not be less motivated to return to his house. I mean, maybe he could, but at the moment, he was dreading coming back. He had spent a few hours at his friend Black Star's place to hang out after the Skull Ice Cream encounter with Maka and Tsubaki. It might've been more than a few hours, because he was heading towards his house at almost midnight. But what could he do? Even he needed some days off. He effectively spent the hours with Black Star playing video games, eating chips, and watching a terrible movie on Netflix. It was totally worth getting in trouble for, Soul deemed. But it didn't make him any less nervous as he approached the large house he lived in.

He wouldn't lie, it was an amazing house. It was built with sandy bricks, two white columns framing the ornate double-door. There were five windows on the side of the house facing the street: two lower ones on each side of the door, two high ones (above the lower ones), and a large circular one right above the door, revealing the chandelier inside. An intricate rock garden replaced a front lawn because of the desert climate, but colorful flowers emerging from low cactuses had proved to be enough décor to be considered great landscaping. A medium-sized fountain at the center of it all created the final touch to a sophisticated high-class residence. It didn't look like a downright mansion, but it was one of the most expensive, cared for, and pretty house in Death City.

But the front lawn was nothing compared to the rest of the property. To the left side, a quality sandy-colored cobblestone driveway led the way to a white iron gate opening at the side of the house. The cobblestone arrangement formed various intricate patterns that were definitely pleasant on the eyes. The iron gate led to a impressive garage, which homed four expensive cars (but not too expensive). The garage was in the placement of a basement. However, the cobblestone driveway didn't end at the iron gate, it continued to the backyard (not too big), where large flat sand-colored stone tiles served as a deck. There was a barbecue area, a gazebo, and, in the center, a large cerulean pool.

Of course, this was the mere exterior of the home. Soul walked up the front stairs, not bothering with the iron white railings lining them, and knocked on the door. Seconds later, the family maid opened the door to let Soul inside. Once he left the coat room, he walked into a large living room that could not be complete without a gigantic flat screen television, vanilla-colored sofas, numerous modern-art inspired paintings and vases, and a beautiful ebony grand piano. A small crystal chandelier hung above the scene, twinkling with light. The next room down from the front door, barely disconnected to the living room, was the main dining room. Just as modern and high-end to match all the other rooms. If one would turn right before they got to the dining room, they would be welcomed to a small library generally used as Soul's father's study.

Instead, Soul turned left, making his way up a marvelous marble staircase that curved slightly. Detailed black iron railings attached themselves to the rock, guiding the user to the second floor of the building. There, one would find a couple guest bedrooms, the master bedroom, Soul's brother's room, Soul's rooms, and separate bathrooms for each. The rooms all had stone flooring, and the bed was placed on a slightly raised part of the floor, with each part of the walls covered by curtain or turned into a high, large window. Everything was decorated and made using fine materials. But it was clearly not a mansion: simply a high-class, large residence.

Soul could head on to his room, where he could lie in a large stone chamber filled with modern artwork and draped with burgundy cloth, or he could continue down the hall up a case of creaky wooden stairs to the attic. Soul chose the attic. He climbed up to the third floor, and highest floor of the house. It was much smaller than the other two floors because the roof had already started to narrow into a point, but he didn't mind. Soul didn't mind that there were only two windows or that it was always stuffy in here or that the only furniture was stained with soda and ketchup. Because this was the only place he found himself comfortable enough to forget about the awful family he was born into.

Though usually nobody came (or wanted to go) to the attic, he could barely call this privacy. His mother, brother, and the family's maid would not hesitate twice to come up here to bug him, but it was better than to stay in his bedroom. He slept there, of course. No point in denying such a comfy mattress. But his father had placed a grand piano in his room, same as the one in the living room, so Soul could practice, and he could not bear the sight of it. Soul did not ask to be part of this horrible family of prestigious musicians, but that fact did not change the mind of his stubborn, determined father, desperate to keep the Evans' musical legacy alive inside his second son. In all honesty, Soul didn't mind playing the piano. It was fun – music was freeing. But only when he called the shots – which was next to never. He hated being told what to play, when to play it, and, most of all, how bad he was at doing anything his father ordered. He could never reach the expectations his forefathers had set for him. And though Soul desperately tried to not care, it always ate at him. He would never be good enough.

Next to Soul's perfect brother, Wes, Soul was a disgrace. Wesley Evans was a gifted violinist, who carried on the Evans' legacy and pride. He did exactly what their father asked, exactly how their father wanted it done, and exactly in the way that was appreciated by everyone. And it's not that Soul hated his brother, it's just that he hated what his brother's image did to his. Wes was one of the couple people that fully understood Soul's situation and fought for him. Though he couldn't do much, if their father was ripping Soul a new one, Wes would figure out a way to calm him down.

But nothing Wes could say would help Soul in the impending recital. Every year, the Evans family held a small concert for close family and friends. All of them weren't necessarily aristocrats, but they definitely all had poles incredibly far up their assholes as if they were. Usually, only Wes would play, not Soul. But this year, their father figured that since Soul was turning eighteen soon, he should play something. What seemed like an amazing opportunity was actually a way to torture the second son. Soul apparently had to write a new composition to perform, but so far, all his original songs remained disliked by his father. He said they were too dark, too ominous, too tragic. He said that what people want to hear is something light or majestic. But nothing of that genre would ever come to Soul's fingertips when he sat down at the ivory and ebony keys of the haunting instrument.

Just as Soul started to walk over to the window of the attic to let some air in, he heard footsteps come up the wooden stairs. The door soon was opened and a middle-aged woman with titanium blonde hair streaked with silver strands entered the room in a dusty red nightdress. She was curvy, but she could barely be called plump. Her golden brown eyes danced across the room before settling on her son, "Soul, where were you? I was getting worried! You have to call if you're staying so late."

"Sorry," Soul muttered, not turning towards his mother, "I was at Black Star's. I lost track of time."

The woman sighed, "Darling, listen, I know you said you want to hang out with your friends and all, but I'm worried that… I'm worried about… How much have you gotten done?" Soul's mother was about to take a seat on the couch in front of the old television, before becoming fully aware of all the dirt and grime on it. Instead, she moved towards Soul.

"That's weeks away," Soul said, walking towards the window and away from his mother. He knew she was talking about the concert. "I have time. I'll get it done."

"Soul," His mother did not stop moving towards him, "Your father… can be tough sometimes. You know he's always been a perfectionist. I don't want you to realize too late that there's too little time. I know that your compositions haven't been exactly what your father wanted, and it might take more time than you'd expect."

"I have it under control. It's fine."

"Is it really?"

"Yes."

"Honey, talk to me! I want to help you. Remember that I learned a little piano as well. If anything, I can help you come up with a song on my flute. We can-!"

"No. It's my performance."

"I understand, but you seem so stressed nowadays."

"I'm fine."

"Are you really?"

"_Yes._"

"You need to get more sleep. I'm seeing bags under your -!"

"Mom, can you please - !"

"Just rest and eat properly. Are you eating enough?"

"Yes, yes, okay. Can you just-?"

"And this place is a mess. You haven't been letting Anna clean up here, have you?"

"Okay, okay, the maid can come up here later. Just please - !"

"The maid. The maid, huh? You say it as if she hasn't lived here since you were a baby. Anna is a dear family friend. Don't call her the maid. What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, okay? Now, Mom, can you - ?"

"And what is on that couch? What did you spill? I always tell you not to bring food up here! Why can't you do-?"

"Mom!" Soul raised his voice, "Just leave, okay? I got it."

His mother didn't say anything for a while, but then spoke, "Soul, get ready for bed. It's past midnight, and it's important to get your sleep." She turned around and started for the door. She was almost at the attic stairs before she said in a low voice, "I'm your mother. Let me help you."

Soul did not say anything in return. He stood, facing the window, listening to his mother's feet hit each step. That night, he did not return to his bedroom. He played video games until around three in the morning before finishing the night, asleep on the attic couch.

The next morning, he awoke feeling disgusting and showing obvious signs that he underslept. Soul, his back aching from the awful position he fell asleep in, made his way down the steps into his room, and then, into his bathroom. He refreshed himself with a steamy shower, getting dressed in simple tee/shorts getup. He wasn't planning to go anywhere today. The white-haired teen then slipped down the steps through the dining room, and into a grand kitchen. The chef, Mr. Mulls, had already started on breakfast – French toast and scrambled eggs with sausage and mozzarella cheese. Slipping a rather large amount of food onto a plate, Soul hurried out of the kitchen and up the marble steps, heading for the attic. He turned on the TV, flipping through channels nonchalantly and dipping his French toast into a big pool of maple syrup that had accumulated on his plate.

A second later, Wes entered the room, wearing a tee and jeans. First, he plugged a large fan into an outlet and turned it to its highest setting, before looking at Soul and smiling. He spoke, "Mornin'."

"Hey," Soul's eyes remained glued to the screen in front of him. He scoot over on the couch, offering Wes a seat. He took it, but Wes had sat down facing his brother. Soul realized that Wes came here to talk, not hang. "Need something?"

"Mom told me about yesterday."

"Nothing happened yesterday."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, we just talked for a bit. Nothing serious."

"Soul, she just wants to help. You could at least - !"

"I don't need help. I'm fine."

"You have bags under your eyes."

"Must be growin' old then. Funny what a few years does to people."

"I'm serious."

"Well, stop because it's ruining my day and it's not even ten yet."

"Reminds me, why are you up before two?"

"What? I can't get up early for once?"

"No."

Soul sighed, "Man, I woke up a half hour ago, give me a break."

Wes frowned, "Don't change the subject. What are you doing for the concert?"

"There was barely a subject to change. You're the one changing it!"

"What are you doing for the-?"

"I heard you."

"Okay… so?"

"Ugh… why does it matter so much? I'm working on it!"

"Soul…"

"I am!"

Wes became fed up with Soul's stubborn excuses and annoying, aloof replies. He waited a minute before rolling his eyes and saying, "Listen, Dad was thinking of canceling your thing because he thought maybe you can't handle it."

"I can do it," Soul said through clenched teeth, anger building inside of him. Of course his father continues to doubt him! I mean, he's not wrong too, but it just shoved the idea into Soul's face that he's still not good enough. "What exactly did Dad say?"

Wes gulped, "It doesn't matter. Just know that - !"

"What did he say?" Soul faced Wes now, "Just tell me."

"It doesn't matter. I'm just warning you that - !"

"What did he say?!"

"…Soul."

"Wes, I know he hates me. You don't have to keep it from me."

"Well, then, you can guess."

Wes got up from the couch, giving up trying to motivate his brother to start composing a song that would be accepted by their father. Soul was stressed. And he was tired. And he was living in a pigsty. And he was angry. Very angry.

Soul turned his attention away from his clusterfuck of a family and focused it on the TV. But his mind wandered once again, now landing on the return of Maka Albarn. So she came back. So did he, but he was gone for much shorter. Only two years. His family moved to a smaller but semi-aristocratic town in California, where they hoped Soul and Wes would be able to show off their talents in better light. There were a lot of mini-concerts thrown by various people in the area, and their father told them that this was their chance to make a name for themselves. Of course, Soul knew that he was only talking to Wes when he said those words. Soul knew that the main reason they moved out of Death City was because his father had been fed up with the amount of normal people (as his dad said, 'Can't stand the commoners.'). The Evans family was barely rich enough to afford their luxuries, yet they acted like they owned a mansion with fortunes to spare.

Did Soul like California? Not at all. The house in which they lived had a much more open layout. It contained a larger living room, dining room, a couple unnecessary parlors, and a small ballroom where his father had placed the instruments to practice in peace. Soul's and Wes's rooms were combined into one very large, incredibly beautiful bedroom, but the lower level of privacy had annoyed both of them. All the people in the town were similar to their relatives, which did not please them, and Soul was especially annoyed with the practice time. There were no other pianos in the house besides the one in the small ballroom. So whenever Soul would be pushed to play or feel the urge himself, his father would watch from outside the glass door. And that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part was that his father would feel the need to constantly criticize (or a better word for it would be harass with constant insults) him and his playing. He felt like a goldfish in a glass bowl: watched from all angles at all times.

It was probably only six months after their move that Soul had started to complain. There was so much to complain about, he didn't even have to think, and he just let his mouth run. But no one listened. Well, Wes listened, but he couldn't do anything about it. His mother continued to tell him that it would get better in a sympathetic tone. His father, of course, would ignore him. It didn't help that he had to make new friends, which wasn't the most relaxing activity. In the end, he only managed to become friends with two guys, Ox and Harvar. Ox was this nerdy kid with a weird haircut, and Harvar was a loner who seemed to hold a general dislike for everything. He didn't talk to them much.

He continued to beg his family to move back to Death City, where he at least could survive high school, but nothing was being done. After two years which seemed like an eternity, Wes decided he hated living there as well. He talked to their father, and a couple days later, it was announced that by the end of the school year, they would move back to Death City. Soul should've been ecstatic, but the fact that his father ignored him but granted all of his brother's wishes did not sit well with him.

By the end of the summer, Soul was living in Death City again. He knew that Maka had chosen to enroll into Gorgon Academy, but it still hurt when he was not welcomed by her. They were best friends, and now, they weren't even close in the slightest.

* * *

><p><em>The seven-year-old girl ran around the park enthusiastically, her eyes rushing from side to side, searching for another chip. She spotted a Dorito placed on the tree. Quickly, her legs took her to the chip, but stopping before reaching the branch where it was placed. Her small fists were thrown into the air forcefully, aiming at seemingly nothing. Her feet kicked as she spun herself around to dodge something. Her body arched and stumbled, as if it had taken a blow, before an outstretched hand slapped the invisible attacker. She bent her leg and lifted it, as if stepping on the invisible attacker's motionless dead body on the ground.<em>

_ "Nobody messes with Tiny Bits!" She grabbed the orange-colored chip and ate it. Spinning around, she noticed that her superhero-partner Soul Eater had defeated a monster on the opposite side of the park. She approached him, "Soul, I'm pretty tired, we should take a break."_

_ "Take a break?" Soul ate his well-deserved chip, "Are you kidding, Maka? I was just getting started!"_

_ "What are you talking about?" Maka sighed heavily. "We've been fighting for hours!"_

_ "Okay, okay," Soul took a seat on the dusty dirt of the park, "So what? You want to stop playing?"_

_ "Well…"_

_ "'Cos I don't."_

_ "Well, I'm pretty hungry." She later added, "And a bag of Doritos isn't gonna do it for me."_

_ Soul sighed and rolled his eyes, "Makaaaaaaa, ughhhhh."_

_ "That's not making me less hungry."_

_ "Do you even have anything else to eat? Or money?"_

_ "Um…"_

_ "Then there's nothing we can do about it. C'mon help me set up the next set of Doritos."_

_ "Tiny Bits is tired."_

_ "Ugh, Maka, no."_

_ "It's getting late, too."_

_ "So what?"_

_ "Maybe we should go home."_

_ "No, Maka," Soul shook his head, "Okay, we can take a break and then play again."_

_ "I'm still hungry," Maka crossed her arms._

_ "So all of the sudden, you're just gonna go home?"_

_ "Yeah," Maka nodded, gesturing to her bicycle parked near the park entrance, "My mom told me not to drive the bike home past sunset."_

_ "Then how are you gonna get home when its past sunset?"_

_ Maka rolled her eyes, "Soul, she means that I have to be home at sunset. And, look, the sky's getting orange."_

_ "That doesn't mean anything."  
>"I'm not an idiot."<br>"Could've fooled me."_

_ Maka started for her bike, "You suck. I'm going home."_

_ "Okay, okay, I didn't mean it."_

_ "I'm still going home."_

_ "But if you go home then I have to go home."_

_ "Yeah, that's how it works," Maka took her helmet off the bike seat and placed it on her head._

_ "But I don't want to go yet."_

_ "Stop acting like a preschooler. Just go home."_

_ Soul watched Maka swing her leg to the other side of the bike and mount it, she was about to start moving before Soul got up and grabbed her arm, saying, "Wait… Just a little bit more."_

_ He said the words with such dread and sorrow that Maka got off her bike and took a seat on the dirt. Soul did the same. She spoke softer this time, "Why don't you want to go to your house?" When Soul remained silent, Maka added, "… do you hear them yell at each other?"_

_ Soul looked up, "Do your parents yell at each other?"_

_ Maka nodded, "Yeah. A lot. I read a lot of books and listen to music so I don't have to hear them – but it doesn't work well."_

_ "… What do they say?"_

_ "Really bad things. They get really angry. They're not in love anymore."_

_ "Why do you think that?"_

_ "I know why they yell," Maka looked at the ground, feeling tears coming, but not wanting to cry in front of Soul. "Papa kisses and dates other girls."_

_ "How do you know?"_

_ "I see him with them sometimes," Maka felt a tear run down her cheek, and she fought a shaky voice, "And that's what they scream about. Mama doesn't know for sure, though. She hasn't seen Papa with those girls. But I don't want to tell her, because then, I think she'll leave. She tells Papa that she's going to leave. I don't want her to."_

_ "That's messed up."_

_ "Yeah," Maka smiled a bit while wiping her tears. "So, what happens in your house? Do they yell?"_

_ "No," Soul stared at the ground, "They hate me."_

_ "Your parents?" Maka raised a brow, "No they don't, not really!"_

_ "No, they really do. It's because I'm bad at piano. My dad hates me because I'm not as good at playing instruments as my brother."_

_ "I'm sure you just think that! There's no way - !"_

_ "Maka, whenever he hears me play he tells me that I'm not practicing and that I'll never be ready to perform. Even though I do practice. He says that I should pay attention to Wes, and be more like him."_

_ "Soul - !"_

_ "I hear him talking to Wes and my mom. I like Wes, he sometimes fights for me. He tells my dad to stop yelling at me so much, but my dad never listens. My mom is too scared to say anything. She says that its best to just do what my dad says, but I'm sick of it."_

_ "You should talk to your dad about it, then."_

_ "I do! I do and he never listens. He thinks I'm a failure. I heard him saying to my mom that he thinks that I'm not worthy to be in the family because I'm not talented enough. Everyone I'm related to knows how to play an instrument, and they're amazing. But I can't play the things they play. I'm not good enough."_

_ "…Soul."_

_ "I suck. And I have to practice. And my dad thinks I don't try. But I do. And I know that if I come home when he's still awake, he's going to beat me up again. I know he is."_

_ "Beat you up? You mean… he hits you?"_

_ "Sometimes. Not a lot. Only when he's really angry," Soul lifted up his shirt a bit to reveal a deep purple bruise on his hip, "Last week I told him that was going to run away."_

_ "Oh my gosh! He can't do that! That's not right - !"_

_ "Don't tell anyone," Soul hid his bruise again, "Don't. I'm serious. But now you know why I don't want to go home."_

_ "…who else knows?"_

_ "Besides my family… only you."_

_ Maka reached over and pulled Soul into a tight hug. He hugged her back. She whispered into his ear, "You're my best friend and I think you're awesome."_

_ She felt him grin on her shoulder and heard, "I am pretty cool, aren't I." A few minutes later, she heard him add, "But you're just as cool. You're my best friend, too."_

_ They continued to hug for a few more minutes, listening to each other breathe and enjoying each other's company. It was past sunset when the two seven-year-olds decided to sleep in the creaky old tree house in the park. The trouble they got into the next day was worth it._

* * *

><p>Soul smirked thinking of that day. Maka had been there for him when he had no one. Wes was awesome, but he didn't understand hating your own family. Maka did. Maka was hurt. She understood. And she knew what to say. He's glad she came back for the summer, but it doesn't feel like nearly enough. Soul didn't want to hang out with her more; he wanted his best friend back.<p>

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Thank you so much for reading. I loved all your reviews – please keep on writing them. They really make my day. Tell me all your thoughts and suggestions! Thank you again to all of those who favorite or followed this story. It means a lot. I don't own Soul Eater or Doritos, which should be obvious. So, please review and don't refrain from following me on tumblr. The link is located on my profile. I realize that I was going to refrain from uploading the chapters until they are all written, but I'll make some exceptions. Sorry once again and thank you!**_

_**-Zu**_


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